


the differential equation of edmundo diaz

by thisissirius



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Buck testing shit out, Eddie being Hot for Buck, M/M, Sex, and being ridiculous, constantly, just a lot of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28602045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: Eddie’s eyes—and it takes Buck a second to realize what he’s seeing—dilate.Once could have been an accident, though, so Buck’s gotta be smart about this.As his old physics professor used to say; verify, verify, verify.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 58
Kudos: 611
Collections: 9-1-1 ▶ Edmundo "Eddie" Diaz / Evan "Buck" Buckley





	the differential equation of edmundo diaz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spinningincircles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinningincircles/gifts).



> because it's lauren's birthday and she deserves the world <3

Buck discovers it like this;

They’re both in the kitchen, Eddie washing up at the sink, Buck to grab a snack because he’s hungry. Just to be a dick, Buck steps right up behind Eddie, tugging open the cupboard. He doesn’t time it right and Eddie turns, ends up plastered against Buck’s front.

“Sorry,” Buck breathes.

Eddie’s eyes—and it takes Buck a second to realize what he’s seeing—dilate. “Fuck.”

Well.

_Well._

It’s not that Buck’s never thought about it. He’s been bisexual as long as he’s known what the word means, and he’s got eyes. Eddie is hot as fuck and worse, he’s a good person. Okay, not worse, but definitely bad for Buck’s sex—and romantic—life. He’s starting to think about it, what a life with Eddie looks like.

If he’s honest, it’s not that different from the way they live now. More Chris, which is only ever a bonus, and more Eddie.

More Eddie is the thought Buck gets stuck on.

Once could have been an accident, though, so Buck’s gotta be smart about this.

As his old physics professor used to say; verify, verify, verify.

Deciding that the firehouse probably isn’t the best place to test the theory, he waits until they’re both at his apartment. It’s the first time he’s actually stayed more than an hour or two in days and it shows.

Eddie snorts at the state of it, wrinkling his nose at whatever he sees—or smells—in the fridge. “Gross, dude.”

“Fuck off,” Buck says without heat. As he passes, he makes a face. “Okay yeah, that smells terrible.”

Rooting around in the shelves, Eddie drags out a couple of takeout containers that probably should have been tossed a while ago. “How long have these even been in here?”

Buck shrugs. “How the fuck should I know? It’s not like I eat here very often.”

Eddie’s face does a complicated thing. Buck doesn’t even try to examine it because that way lies the ruination of his experiment. Slow and steady and all that. Whatever’s going on in Eddie’s head clearly ends with him being unbothered as he slides a beer across the counter. “Here.”

They drink in companionable silence for a moment, two.

With a subtlety he thinks Maddie would be proud of, he slides up next to Eddie. “Wanna get takeout?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says with a grin. “You gonna leave it to go bad?”

Buck rolls his eyes. His phone is, coincidentally, on the counter beside Eddie. Not that he’s placed it there deliberately or anything. Moving around Eddie, making sure to step closer than he might otherwise have done, he watches Eddie’s face. He’s close enough to hear the hitch in Eddie’s breath, watches the way his eyes widen, his throat bob with a swallow.

“Oops,” Buck says, neatly stepping away from Eddie.

It takes Eddie a second to react, rolling his eyes and shoving at Buck half-heartedly, and Buck’s slept with enough people to be proud of himself for having that effect on someone.

That it’s Eddie means more than, well, anything.

Test two?

Resounding fucking success.

That’s not the only test that Buck makes.

Buck knows he looks good; he’s a firefighter, he works out, and he’s been out plenty of times enough to know people find him attractive. Despite that, he doesn’t often take his shirt off around his workmates, and that includes Eddie. It’s not really necessary at work—unless he’s changing or showering—and at home, there’s no point.

That is, of course, until the picnic they all take to the park in the summer to celebrate Hen’s birthday. The kids are distracted, playing a game of tag that Christopher’s actually enjoying, and both he and Harry manage to cajole Buck into joining them.

It gets hot, as LA is want to do, and Buck ends up taking of his shirt, tucking it into the waistband of his shorts, and continues to dart around after the kids, alternating between bursts of speed and slowing down depending on who he’s trying to catch.

Christopher shrieks when Buck snaps him up, tossing him over one shoulder and grinning as Christopher starts giggling. Across the field, Buck catches sigh of Eddie, who’s busy staring. Not at Chris, or even really at Buck, but at Buck’s chest. Buck doesn’t count, but it’s got to be a full minute before Eddie drags his eyes up to Buck’s face. Buck’s smirking, swings Christopher down ruffles his hair.

“Buck,” Chris protests, readjusting his hair while Buck grabs his crutches.

“Go on,” Buck prompts. “They’re waiting for you.”

When Chris is gone, Buck looks up, but Eddie’s now talking to Chim—though the back of his neck is definitely red and not from the sun.

There’s also the fact that Eddie is hot for competence.

This isn’t new; Buck knows Eddie appreciates his brain and the things he knows, even as he teases him for them. For his birthday and Christmas, Eddie’s always hiding non-fiction books on subjects Buck’s never shown an interest in amongst Buck’s gifts. It’s touching and Buck ends up devouring them, parroting facts back until he thinks he’s pissing people off.

Then there’s Eddie, who soaks them up, rolls his eyes and ribs Buck, but generally looks a little proud of himself.

Whatever. Buck just likes to learn new things, it’s not like Eddie’s done anything groundbreaking. Except for how he has; Eddie’s not the most empathetic of people, but he constantly knows what Buck needs and wants, even when Buck absolutely doesn’t want to accept them.

Anyway, Eddie and competence.

Calls don’t always go the right way, they’ve both learned that more than once, and it’s not like this one goes particularly badly, but there’s a winch, a rope, and a window that Buck absolutely can’t reach without help.

“You better not fall,” Eddie threatens, though Buck can read the worry in his eyes.

Smirking, he lets Chim and Bobby harness him in and then says, “It’ll be fine.”

It is; Buck gets through the window, saves the man inside, and gets down without a scratch. He’s a little smokey and out of breath, but he waits till he’s free of the harness and spreads out his arms. “See? Told you.”

Hen rolls her eyes, and Chim mutters something about big-headed idiots, but Eddie’s definitely not joking around with his expression; he looks intense, heat in his eyes and lips parted.

“Eddie?”

“What?” It takes a moment for Eddie to snap out of it and glare.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t love that,” Buck jokes, elbowing Eddie in the ribs, and Eddie slings an arm around his neck, wrestles him until Bobby tell them to break it up.

It’s a cover, because Buck can see plain as day the flush on Eddie’s face.

There’s also the softer side of Eddie to take into account.

Their lives are a mishmash of adrenaline, desperation, devastation, relaxation, and the quiet moments. Eddie’s softer side comes out in those times; when they’re together playing video games, hanging out with Chris, catching a game and dinner, or just talking. Not that Buck’s ever mentioned Eddie’s softer side out loud; first, because Eddie pretends he doesn’t have one, and second, because that’s the fastest way to get Eddie to stop.

Chris is in bed, the living room dark, when the two of them jerk awake from a doze by an explosion on TV. It startles Buck for a moment, has his heart racing, and it takes him a moment to realize it’s a movie and not real life.

“Easy,” Eddie says.

Buck blinks and then smiles, stretching out the kinks in his back. “I’m good.”

“Good,” Eddie says, and pauses.

Opening his mouth to ask what, Buck realizes what’s caught Eddie’s attention; his gaze is lingering on the patch of skin between Buck’s shirt and pants that’s exposed from his stretching. It’s a moment that he could totally use to his advantage, but instead he shuffles forward, letting the shirt fall and rubs at his face.

“Come on, man,” he says, nudging Eddie up. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Eddie nods, though it takes him a moment to climb to his feet, and Buck grins behind his back.

So, there’s that.

All in all, testing cumulated, the conclusion is obvious.

Eddie wants to have sex with him.

Objectively. And subjectively. Or whatever, maybe Buck is reading everything into this but he _knows_ when someone wants to sleep with him. Eddie is giving off all the signals that would normally have Buck asking if he can take him home and pound him into the mattress.

Or against a wall in Eddie’s case.

Because that’s what everything has in common; when he’s shirtless, he slips past Eddie in the locker room. On the call, he catches up with Eddie against the truck, sees Eddie’s hands shake as he tugs off his clothes and has to clamber past him to get inside. Pushing past Eddie on the way to the kitchen to make Christopher’s pancakes.

Eddie’s got a _thing_.

Which, Buck gets it.

It’s not like he’s never thought about Eddie pressing _him_ down into things, against things.

Buck just—likes the idea of being wanted that way.

The sex is fine. If Eddie asks, it’s not like Buck will ever say no. Not that he thinks Eddie will _ever_ ask, because of a myriad of reasons; Chris, work, their friendship.

Self-esteem.

Buck knows his best friend and Eddie’s probably got a lower sense of self-worth than anyone else Buck knows, including himself. See, Maddie? He can be self aware when he needs to be.

Anyway.

Eddie isn’t going to make a move, which means Buck needs to be the one to do it.

But.

If it’s just sex, Buck isn’t sure he wants to.

The sex will be amazing, because it’s Buck and because it’s Eddie, and because it’s them. Buck just doesn’t want it to only be sex. He wants—everything. Anything Eddie wants or needs.

Which is why he needs to add a little—well, an extra component to the experiment.

Chris actually gives Buck the perfect opening, for which Buck is forever grateful. Not that he can love the kid anymore then he already does.

They’re on the couch and Chris falls asleep on Eddie, which means Eddie—who is absolutely the softest of touches whenever Chris is asleep—lets him sleep.

“I’ll move him soon,” Eddie says three times.

Buck doesn’t care. It means Eddie’s got nowhere to go because Buck’s on his other side. The movie isn’t long or particularly boring, but Eddie’s had a long day and he starts to list towards Buck an hour or so after Chris.

It’s nice. The weight against Buck’s arm feels good because it’s Eddie and Chris.

Shifting out from under Eddie is easy because he’s had practice. He takes Chris, carries him carefully down the hall and puts him in bed. When he gets back to the living room, Eddie’s still asleep. He’s slid the rest of the way down, face mashed into the couch cushions and one arm dangling over the side. Buck snorts, rolling his eyes. He wonders how often Eddie moves in bed and whether he kicks—then promptly forces himself not to think about it.

At least not yet.

“Eddie,” Buck says gently, leaning over the couch. He keeps one hand on the back, rests the other on Eddie’s shoulder. “Come on, man.”

It doesn’t take Eddie long to wake up; he blinks, frowns, then sees Buck. The smile that slides onto his face is, well, to say Buck falls in love with him all over again isn’t actually that far from the truth.

“Chris,” Eddie says immediately, almost jerking up.

“I put him to bed,” Buck says. He squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, then takes a risk he thinks he can be forgiven for. He moves his fingers to Eddie’s neck, feels the steady _thump thump_ beneath his fingers pick up a bit, and then Eddie’s eyes dart from his lips to his face. “You okay?”

Eddie nods, silent, and keeps his eyes on Buck’s face. His eyes drop to Buck’s lips, as if he’s waiting, expecting, and Buck knows if he dips down and kisses Eddie, Eddie will let him, will _participate_ in the kiss _._

It’s a moment Buck doesn’t want to break, but kind of needs to. He runs his fingers over Eddie’s jaw and then pulls back. Eddie lets out a slow breath, closes his eyes and takes a moment. Buck allows it; walks away from him towards the kitchen, grinning to himself.

Okay. So Eddie’s not just interested in sex.

Time to move on to the practical.

The next time they’re in the kitchen, it’s at Eddie’s. Chris is sleeping, tired out from a day at the fair. Eddie’s got a smudge of face paint behind his left ear and Buck grins at the memory of Eddie getting shark teeth along his jaw because of Chris and Buck’s combined pleading.

Eddie’s clearly a soft touch for _Buck_ as well, and isn’t that a heady feeling?

Placing the last of the dishes on the drainer, Eddie wipes his hand on the towel and turns, only to find Buck right behind him. Buck boxes him in because he wants to see that look in Eddie’s eyes again—dilated pupils, black almost swallowing any hint of colour—and because he likes the way Eddie’s breath hitches.

Pressing his hands to Buck’s chest, Eddie says, “Buck,” like he can’t think of anything else to say.

“Every time,” Buck starts, wrapping a hand around the back of Eddie’s neck, “you had a reaction.”

Eddie doesn’t lie; Buck likes that about him, that he can’t pretend he doesn’t know what Buck’s talking about. “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Buck asks, leaning in, lips so fucking close to kissing Eddie the way he wants to. “This? Or tell me?”

“Both,” Eddie breathes, his eyes on Buck’s face, his lips, throat bobbing with a hard swallow. “Neither. I just want—”

Buck closes the distance between them, fingers on the back of Eddie’s head lax so that Eddie knows he can move, retreat if he wants to. Apparently he doesn’t, fingers clenching at the front of Buck’s shirt, tugging him closer.

Not that Buck can get closer. He can feel the hard planes of Eddie’s stomach against him, the heavy weight of a cock against his hip and fuck, Buck wants to touch. Moving his free hand to Eddie’s hip, he leans in, breathing against Eddie’s mouth. Eddie’s breathing is shaky, and he tightens the grip of his own hands.

“Buck,” he says.

“You can have whatever you want,” Buck whispers, touching their foreheads together. “We’ve both thought about it.”

Eddie opens his mouth, closes it. Shakes his head a little, but doesn’t pull away. “No.”

Buck smirks, rubs his thumb up and under Eddie’s shirt, scratching lightly with his nail. Eddie shivers beneath the touch, he’s trying to talk, Buck can see the bob of his throat, but his eyes are closed and his breath is hitching.

“Yeah you have,” Buck says, a little louder. “I can see it. Especially when you’re like this.”

“Like that?” Eddie bites out, and there’s the fight Buck’s expecting.

“This,” Buck says, and presses until Eddie’s back is hard against the counter. There’s not much of a height difference between them, Buck’s not even sure how many inches it is, but he looks good pressed up against Buck, head tipped back a little to expose that throat. “When you’re trapped.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything for a moment.

Buck moves, turns Eddie’s face so that his lips are pressed to Eddie’s cheek, then hot against his ear. “It’s not like you couldn’t shove me away,” he says, almost conversationally. He can tell from the way Eddie’s fingers flex, from the slow roll of his hips against Buck’s that it’s getting to him. “But you won’t. Because you do want it.”

“Chris,” Eddie starts.

“Doesn’t care,” Buck says, with a certainty he feels. “You know he’d love it if I was around all the time.”

Not that Buck’s cocky about it; having Chris want him around, knowing Chris trusts and loves him that much will never not be the best thing, but it’s taken a long time, and a lot of Buckley wine nights for Buck to be able to say it without wanting to cry. Eddie needs to know he’s not ashamed of it, that he’s grateful, and that it just means he wants _Eddie_ more.

“I love your son,” Buck says.

Eddie lets out a noise that Buck can’t even describe.

Okay, well. He wasn’t expecting that outcome, but okay.

“I love you,” Buck says, without hesitation.

Eddie’s head snaps up, eyes wide and there’s a lot more lucidity in them than there was just five seconds ago. “Don’t say that.”

“Why?” Buck knows he’s gotta navigate this bit carefully; “it can be just sex if you want, Eds, but I’m not gonna lie about it.”

A myriad of expressions run across Eddie’s face, almost as if he’s having a meltdown, recovering, and accepting whatever conclusion he’s come to in seconds.

“What else can it be?” Buck continues, fingers in Eddie’s hair massaging lightly. Eddie’s not shoving him away, not telling him to fuck off. “The way I feel about you, Eddie, isn’t something I take for granted.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, almost to himself. He leans in, eyes closing, and touching his forehead to Buck’s shoulder. Hiding his emotions so he doesn’t have to deal with them, Buck thinks, but then Eddie’s saying, “I like it.”

Buck raises his eyebrows, even though Eddie can’t see his face. “Which part?”

“You,” Eddie says, voice muffled by Buck’s shirt. “Loving me. Wanting this. Doing this.”

Sex is easy; Buck can move them that way and maybe Eddie’ll loosen up enough to say full sentences about his feelings instead of whatever this is. “Trapping you?”

Eddie nods, and Buck tightens his grip a little, tilts Eddie’s head back. Eddie goes willingly, tension bleeding out of his neck and he stares up at Buck, unashamed and _want_ creeping across his face.

“How about,” Buck says, and effortlessly turns Eddie around.

“What,” Eddie starts, and then finds himself pressed against the counter, Buck plastered to his back. “Fuck.”

“That’s the intention,” Buck whispers, one hand on Eddie’s hip, the other sliding up under his shirt, finding a hardened nipple. Eddie lets out a shaky breath, head tipping back against Buck’s shoulder. “You want this?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, finding his voice. He’s gripping the edge of the counter like his life depends on it. Despite the many times Buck’s teased Eddie into revealing his attraction, it still feels like the first time. Being able to cause Eddie to lose his cool will never not be a heady feeling.

Buck rubs a finger over Eddie’s nipple, revels in the noises Eddie seems unable to keep from making, and kisses at his neck. Eddie moves his feet apart a little, leans back against Buck and yeah, this is what Buck’s been waiting for. They’re in his kitchen, Eddie trembling under his hands, and Buck’s thinking about Eddie naked in this space.

“Gonna keep you here,” he says, voice low. Eddie makes a questioning noise. Buck grazes his teeth over the tendons in Eddie’s neck, sucks at the stretch of skin between neck and shoulder. “Jerk you off, maybe even fuck you right here.”

Eddie makes another guttural noise. “Get on with it then.”

Buck breathes out slowly, tweaks Eddie’s nipple again. Eddie’s words trail off with a hitch, one hand slamming down against the counter as he jerks forward. Buck’s dick is already hard, pressed against the tight curve of Eddie’s ass, and Buck knows it’s Eddie seeking his own friction that’s causing the little rolls of his hips that aren’t helping Buck’s attempts to hold out.

“Stop moving,” he bites out, hand moving to Eddie’s neck. His grip is loose, thumb against Eddie’s pulse point, and Buck feels it jump as Eddie’s whole body shudders. Eddie rolls his head to look awkwardly at Buck. He doesn’t say anything, just stares, and Buck holds his breath. The moment stretches, Buck breathes out, and he sees this for what it is; the trust Eddie’s giving him, the way he relaxes under Buck’s hold and yeah, Buck wants him so badly in that moment he doesn’t know where to begin.

Eddie drops one hand to his jeans, rubs the palm of his hand against his dick.

“I wanna make this last,” Buck says, voice husky.

“It still can,” Eddie says petulantly, but he reaches back with that same hand, fisting Buck’s pants between his fingers. “Take ‘em off then.”

“Yes sir.” The words are out before Buck can stop them, and he watches Eddie’s eyebrows twitch, his tongue dart out to rub at his bottom lip. Okay, that’s something to shelve for later. Eddie’s competence kink clearly tips over into liking his orders being followed. Which actually isn’t that difficult an assumption to make when you know Eddie Diaz as well as Buck does. Figures he’d unconsciously find something else Eddie seems to like.

Deciding to give Eddie a little something, Buck drops his hand from Eddie’s chest and pops the button on Eddie’s jeans, snapping the waistband of Eddie’s briefs to lighten some of the mood.

“Asshole,” Eddie says, but there’s a smile curving his lips.

Buck huffs a laugh and kisses Eddie’s jaw. He keeps his lips and teeth there, working at the skin. Eddie’s breathing heavy, reaching up and getting a hand in Buck’s hair, which is the longest it’s been in a while. The sting is a pleasure in itself and Buck groans low in the back of his throat, fingers deft as they slip beneath Eddie’s waistband and inch slowly down his groin, until he can curl them around Eddie’s shaft.

Grunting, Eddie jerks a little, not that he can move far. Trapped between the counter and Buck, his ass ends up rubbing perfectly against Buck.

“Wait,” Eddie starts, gasping as Buck’s teeth graze a sensitive spot on his neck. Buck raises his eyebrows but files the knowledge away for later. “We need—”

“I’ve got everything we need,” Buck assures him, and ignores Eddie’s knowing look. “What? If you’d said no,” he continues, kissing Eddie’s temple, the skin behind his ear, back to his neck. “I would have just tossed the lube back into the bathroom.”

“Don’t say toss unless you’re actually gonna do it,” Eddie admonishes, then groans. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

Buck laughs, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the lube. He rests it on the counter where Eddie can’t help but see it and strokes Eddie’s shaft, slow and firm. Eddie, about to say something probably scathing, shuts his mouth with an audible clack and fucks forward.

“Please,” Eddie grits out, and Buck knows what it costs him to beg.

“Maybe,” Buck says, because he can’t help being a brat sometimes, but also because he knows Eddie. The easiest way to get him to admit he wants or likes something is to annoy him into it, or bicker with him until he accidentally reveals everything. Buck’s an awesome best friend, thank you very much, and he wouldn’t make Eddie do anything he’s not comfortable with. It’s not his fault Eddie’s a walking, talking landmine. “I kind of like you like this.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything. Buck can’t tear his eyes away from the expression on his face. He’s still tilted back against Buck’s shoulder, kept there by his own will because Buck’s hands are busy shoving Eddie’s pants down his hips. Eyes dark, Eddie’s watching him carefully, expression all naked want and anticipation. It’s the want Buck recognizes first; he’s seen it time and again when he’s been testing his theories. The anticipation is obvious, having seen it so many times at work. But there’s something primal about it here, in his kitchen, with Eddie’s dick exposed to the cool air, pleasure starting to coil low and hot in Buck’s belly.

Eddie’s not overly long, but he’s thick, hot under Buck’s fingers and he swallows.

“I’m gonna get my mouth on that,” Buck promises, whispering the words into Eddie’s ear. Shaft twitching, Eddie groans, hands back on the counter, knuckles white. “Take you deep. I’m pretty good at it,” not that he wants to brag, but because he can see the way Eddie’s reacting to just imagining it. “Deepthroating I mean.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters, finally shifting on his feet and dropping his head to his chin.

Buck takes advantage of the shift, free hand moving to Eddie’s neck, fingers sliding up into Eddie’s hair while he unbuckles his own belt one-handed. Small tremors wrack Eddie’s body as he breathes heavy, and Buck shoves haphazardly at his pants until they’re low enough he can free his own cock. Eddie’s looking back over his shoulder, eyes dilating a little more when he looks down.

“You weren’t wearing underwear?”

“Nope,” Buck says, popping the p, and reaches around Eddie to grip his dick a touch too tight. Eddie hisses behind his teeth and Buck relaxes a fraction. “Knew eventually I’d get you like this.”

“So what,” Eddie manages, eyes fluttering closed when Buck thumbs at the head of his cock, slit leaking and slicking the way. Buck wants to reach for the lube to make it easier, but something about the way Eddie’s twitching and sliding forward into the circle of his fingers keeps him still. “You were just never gonna wear underwear ever again?”

Buck knows what he’s trying to imply and snorts, burying his nose in Eddie’s hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he admits. “I knew you wanted me.”

Eddie’s eyes snap open and he stills under Buck’s hands. “Why didn’t you—”

“You needed time,” Buck says lowly, because despite all his testing, if Eddie shut down at any point, he’d have backed off.

There’s something heavy in Eddie’s expression and he shifts a little then, an awkward turn so that he can rest a hand on Buck’s face, eyes darting down to his lips and then back up. “You really do love me, don’t you?”

Buck swallows, the air moving from hot and heavy to just heavy and he nods, doesn’t know what Eddie’s hoping to hear so decides to be honest. It’s what’s got them here. “I’d do anything for you, Eddie.”

“I know,” Eddie whispers, and it should feel ridiculous, both of them half-naked in the kitchen and having a deep conversation, but everything about it feels right. Buck feels settled and he hasn’t for so long that it just makes his love for Eddie thrum right under his skin. Eddie leans forward, kisses Buck. It’s a lot; the first time they’ve done so mouth to mouth and Buck moans into it. Eddie starts tentatively, but he presses forward, tongue demanding and soft in equal measure as he licks into Buck’s mouth, fingers tight on the back of Buck’s head. When they part, reluctant, with Buck chasing Eddie’s lips, Eddie’s hand moves to Buck’s chest, keeping them both in place. “You have to know,” he starts, searching Buck’s face. “I love you too.”

Buck’s breath catches and he doesn’t know what to say. Eddie’s being honest; it’s in his expression, the apprehension he can’t hide well. It’s brave in a way Eddie rarely lets himself be when it comes to emotions and Buck’s proud of him.

It’s also hot as fuck.

Buck shoves forward as he kisses Eddie again, pushing Eddie back against the counter and Eddie groans in surprise. It’s got to be a little painful, back arched and hanging onto Buck like his life depends on it, but Eddie just moans into Buck’s mouth, rolls his hips against Buck’s and their cocks slide together.

“Buck,” Eddie breathes when they part, looking Buck in the eye. “Fuck me.”

It’s an offer Buck wouldn’t normally pass up, but he shakes his head, gets his hand back in Eddie’s hair and exposes his throat. “Later,” Buck promises, nipping at the column of Eddie’s neck, hand back on Eddie’s dick and he strokes the full length.

“Please,” Eddie says.

“Later,” Buck repeats. “I wanna take my time right now,” he says, and turns Eddie around, stepping back just enough to give Eddie room so he’s not pressed uncomfortably against the counter. “It’ll last.”

Eddie says nothing, just goes where Buck guides him. Again, it’s the trust and willingness that seem to go straight to Buck’s dick and he can’t help the soft moan he lets out against the back of Eddie’s neck. Eddie’s hands are flat on the counter, head dropped forward, but Buck wants to see him, wants to watch his face when Buck makes him come.

“This way,” Buck says gently, guiding Eddie back against him, keeping him boxed into the corner of the kitchen. The heaviness seems to have shifted and there’s a heat in Eddie’s eyes when he looks up, eyebrow raised like he’s waiting for Buck to wow him.

Challenge accepted.

Working Eddie’s jeans and briefs further down his hips, Buck reaches for the lube, generously coating his hand. He slicks up his own cock first, taking his time, panting and moaning gently into Eddie’s ear. Eddie’s fingers tighten against the counter, nails dragging against the top and Buck smirks. When he finally wraps his fingers around Eddie’s dick, it’s already slick with precum and Buck has to think of a million unsexy things just to keep from coming then and there.

“Eddie,” he gasps, kissing at Eddie’s neck, the underside of his jaw. Eddie fucks forward, an easy slide into the curve of Buck’s fingers and it takes Buck a moment to remember he wants to take this slow, to make it good for Eddie.

When he says as much, Eddie bites out, “Good would be letting me come.”

“No,” Buck says slowly, “that would be quick. Good doesn’t mean quick, Eddie, and I’m gonna show you.”

Buck doesn’t want to know if anyone’s ever taken their time with Eddie and he’s not gonna ask; he’s gonna show Eddie how good it can feel to make it last, to drag out every last ounce of pleasure. Buck wants to give that to Eddie, who’s spent so long thinking about having Buck.

He’s gotta know that Buck’s been his from the moment he said, “You can have my back any day.”

“No,” Buck says, when Eddie’s hands move. “Keep them there. You just gotta feel it, Eddie.”

Eddie opens his mouth, probably to protest, but he closes it just as quickly, seems content, finally, to let Buck lead. Free hand resting once again on Eddie’s neck, Buck splays his fingers, thumb pressed to Eddie’s jaw, pinkie nestled against his collarbone. He can feel when Eddie groans, moans, or swallows, can see the way Eddie’s fingers flex against the counter, hear the pants and whimpers he’s trying to stifle.

They’ll work on that eventually, but for now Buck focuses on stroking Eddie slowly, fingers sliding over the slick shaft, friction to keep Eddie pent up, but not enough for him to let go. Buck’s always liked the slow learning curve of figuring out what his partner likes in bed, even more so if it’s Eddie. Eddie’s always so private, even with Buck, about his preferences and there’s a thrill to coaxing things out of him. Buck can only imagine how that’ll feel when it’s sexual revelations he’s teasing from Eddie.

Speaking of—

“Buck, please,” Eddie gasps out, hips pushing forward, trying to pick up the pace.

“I’ll make it good,” Buck promises.

Eddie doesn’t seem to have an answer for that, but tries once again to roll forward. Buck goes with him, cock sliding into the cleft of Eddie’s ass. Slick with lube and his own precum, it’s an effortless thrust and Eddie lets out an, “oh,” of surprise and goes a little boneless. The sudden weight almost shifts them away from the counter, but Buck gets his balance back, rewards Eddie with a quick stroke, fingers moving gently around the glans, thumb ghosting over the slit. Eddie’s leaking, small dribbles sliding down the shaft in the wake of Buck’s hand and he’s fascinating with watching it, the small twitches, the tremors in Eddie’s thighs. Everything about Eddie is intoxicating and Buck’s almost sorry this has to come to an end.

“I can’t,” Eddie says, and even his grip on the counter is slack, hips jerking forward and sliding backward, chasing Buck’s hand and then his cock, torn between the counterpoints of pleasure. Buck’s own orgasm is mostly forgotten in his fascination with watching Eddie’s roll over him. It’s almost like he can physically see the way it’s affecting Eddie; the small hitch in his breath, the eyes that are dark but unseeing, like he’s looking through Buck instead of at him. The small thrusts of his hips, the tensing of his body, fingers clawing back at the counter as he lets out a mangled version of Buck’s name and comes over Buck’s fist, his stomach, a little of the counter door.

It’s enough to have Buck finally chasing his own; thrusting up into the curve of Eddie’s ass, fingers tightening slightly against Eddie’s neck as he rolls his hips upward. Eddie, oversensitive, twitches in Buck’s hand that he can’t seem to force open, to drop away from Eddie.

“Buck,” Eddie whimpers, hand batting at Buck’s fingers and Buck finally unfurls his fingers, startled when Eddie catches them with his own, tangles their hands together. It’s a prompt because Eddie’s still a little out of it, head dropped back onto Buck’s shoulder, dick still twitching with the aftershocks and rivulets of come still sliding down his shaft.

Buck mutters something into Eddie’s shoulder, bites down as he can feel the pleasure racing up his spine. Eddie’s grip tightens, nails of his free hand digging into the meat of Buck’s thigh and Buck comes with a muffled shout.

“You,” Eddie starts, then stops.

It takes a few tries for Buck to get his legs to move, but he manages to at least slide them to the floor. It’s freezing, especially on his bare ass, but Eddie seems to have less of a care about that when he folds against Buck, dragging Buck into a searing kiss.

No words apparently, but he can say as much as he needs to with his body.

“I do love you,” Eddie says finally.

Buck smiles, fingers back in Eddie’s hair because it’s soft and thick and he can’t get enough. “I love you too.”

It’s enough that Eddie’s said the words, that Buck’s heard them.

There’s still a part of Buck that worries everything will change when they wake up, when Eddie realizes what they’ve done and decides it’s too much, _Buck’s_ too much, but one day Buck’s gonna have to give Eddie more credit. Afraid of his feelings, maybe, but once he’s aware of them, apparently he goes all out.

They have a tough shift, the weight of a loss and a bad fire, soot seemingly burrowed into their skin. Eddie tells Buck quietly that he wants to go home alone and Buck lets him, crawls home to his own apartment. After a long, hot shower where he spends as much time crying as he does cleaning away the memories, Buck realises what Eddie had been unable to say.

Despite the late hour, Buck drives over to Eddie’s and lets himself in with his key, unsurprised that all the lights are out. Christopher’s door is ajar and Buck peeks inside. Dead to the world. Buck smiles a little, grateful that Chris is alive and here and he gets to know him. It’s a lot of emotion that he’s not prepared to handle and continues down the hall to Eddie’s room.

Eddie’s awake, eyes on Buck as he comes into the room.

“You could have asked,” Buck says gently.

A shadow crossed Eddie’s face and he shrugs, turning away.

“Eddie,” Buck says gently, lifting the covers and climbing in beside Eddie. “It’s okay to want me.”

“I know,” Eddie says finally, tone gruff. “It’s—I wish—”

He doesn’t finish and Buck doesn’t press. Instead, he turns on his side, watching Eddie in the dark of the room. Finally, Eddie shuffles forward, tucks himself in against Buck and Buck wraps his arms around him, grateful that Eddie trusts him enough for this. “I’ve got you.”

“I know,” is the quiet reply.

Buck closes his eyes. “I love you.”

Eddie’s breath hitches. Then, quietly again, “I love you too.”

It’s taken a while, but Buck finally knows why Eddie reacts the way he does to being crowded. Perhaps there’s a safety to being boxed in, to being wrapped up in someone’s arms, but there’s also a safety in this; being the one who puts themself between the person they love and the rest of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> join me on the [tumblr](http://thisissirius.tumblr.com).


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